warnings: panic attack, victim blaming, sort of an angry mob, past torture, restraints (mentioned)
—
Alden held onto Dev for what seemed like hours. When he’d first prepared to pick up the injured villain, he’d expected the weight of a full grown man, not that of the few twigs he’d become. It was a stark contrast to how he used to be. Dev had always been the stronger of the two of them.
He used to be different in a lot of ways, Alden thought.
Eventually, Dev calmed down and his breath evened out into the soft rhythm of sleep. Alden continued stroking the villain’s shoulder now more out of a habit, not wanting to break the quiet moment. But he knew he had to leave this building behind.
He never wanted Dev to have to see this place again.
Coming to the doors, it was silent outside. No clamor of publicity or shouts for orders. That would’ve come earlier. They’d issued orders on what to do for the release of The Puppeteer and stuck to it—no one could afford to mess around. Although, to the public, it wasn’t a release but a resignation.
Not fit for rehabilitation. It was something palatable to those who hated Dev, which included just about everyone in the city. Dev had ruled with an iron fist, and the city still held its collective grudge. They’d agreed on the sentiment that he didn’t deserve redemption—as if it was something one could deserve rather than a basic right inherent to their humanity.
Dev had already been stripped of so many human rights and Alden hated to take away any more, but this was how they’d get the publicity out of their faces. The heroes were another matter. Alden knew they wouldn’t want Dev invading their base, but really, what was he going to do in this state? There wasn’t anywhere else for the man to go. Alden pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking about how he would deal with the repercussions when he got to them.
Someone opened the door for him and he stepped outside with the city’s most feared villain curled up in his arms.
A van waited a few feet away, parked on the curb. In front of it stood Alden’s “partner in crime” as he liked to call it, since Ethan was always a fan of irony. Non-powered employees of Oneirogate stood at either side of the pathway, guns raised, pointed, and ready to shoot in case Dev had any willpower to try anything at all.
The precautions they took for someone so small and weak were almost laughable.
Ethan held his hands up, power activated. His ability of casting energy nets helped capture difficult villains, but Alden knew Dev wasn’t going to try and escape. He wasn’t even awake to see the spectacle. As soon as Ethan laid eyes on the sleeping figure in Alden’s arms, his hands faltered, the rusty-orange energy on them flickering and growing dim.
Dev nuzzled his head into the crook of Alden’s neck, hiding his face under the mess of his own matted hair. The gesture seemed instinctive even in his sleep—to hide. The shirt Alden had helped him into was already stained red with blood and one sleeve hung limply next to the villain’s broken arm.
Ethan slowly lowered his hands. His mouth fell open, likely without him realizing it, the expression of shock and disbelief practically comical in its exaggeration.
“Is that…” he started, trailing off. He pointed at Dev.
Alden nodded. Ethan rubbed the back of his neck.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Alden carried him over to the van and Ethan opened the door for him to get on. Inside, he spotted the restraining board—a platform with connected leather straps for the wrists, ankles, and waist to secure particularly dangerous villains. Alden eyed it dismally.
Ethan stepped into the van and sat down. He saw Alden’s gaze directed toward the restraining board and raised a brow.
“You gonna put him on that thing?” he asked.
Alden shook his head and sat down across from Ethan, adjusting his arms so he could wrap both around Dev’s body to hold him up.
“I’ll just hold him,” he replied.
Ethan looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. His eyebrows furrowed together as he inspected the villain’s battered body, likely coming to the same conclusions Alden had. They couldn’t have left him in that place a day longer. Too much had already gone on without them knowing and it left the biggest villain of the city in a state such as this.
Dev whimpered and Alden thought the movement of the van starting had woken him, but his breathing evened out a moment later. His face still held that pained appearance. Alden held him close, looking down at the sleeping form in his arms.
“They really did a number on him, huh?” Ethan said.
Alden didn’t bother responding and merely sighed.
—
The heroes base came into view, along with the mass of people Alden had just pissed off. The public thought they were going to deal with The Puppeteer in a way that didn’t include rehabilitation, but the heroes knew a different story. They knew the cells at the base weren’t equipped for maximum security, so what Alden was doing was technically a huge risk to everyone involved. A mistake.
The people Alden worked with glared angrily at the approaching van and he knew they were expecting the city’s most feared villain. The one who could mind control an entire crowd and bend them to his will. The man with the silver tongue who could spin pretty lies and speeches about his greatness while he made you cut off your own tongue simply because he asked.
They didn’t know they’d be getting such a broken thing. That Dev had been beaten and bloodied time and time again until he was near unrecognizable. His body was emaciated, his bones broken, his feet burned. His skin was a patchwork of bruises and lacerations, it was a wonder he hadn’t already died of blood loss. He wouldn’t even be able to walk, let alone break out of the heroes base.
But they didn’t know that.
The voices grew in volume the second Alden opened the door, even before he stepped out. Ethan held it open for him as he carried Dev out, and instantly shouts surrounded his face.
They crowded around him, faces too close. Hands reaching for him, mouths pulled in sneers and snarls. Alden’s heart raced, beating heavily against his chest. His breath caught; he hated the attention. He wanted to step back and hide in the van but he knew he had to pass through this to help Dev.
“What were you thinking?” someone shouted at him.
“He’s dangerous!”
“He’s a monster!”
“He’s evil!”
The voices surrounded him. Dev cried out, awoken from the noise. He made a strangled sound and buried his face even more into Alden’s shoulder, shifting around in his grasp as if he were trying to make his body even smaller than it already was.
Alden cringed. If the clamor was enough to frighten himself, he couldn’t imagine what Dev must’ve been feeling. He could guess though, having the villain pressed against his chest, shivering with the force of a leaf in the wind. His breathing quickened, coming in short, pitchy gasps, and his hands tightened on Alden’s shirt as he pressed his face into it. Small whimpers escaped his lips, louder than all the voices encompassing them. Alden had to stop them before Dev hyperventilated himself into passing out.
“Everybody shut up!” he yelled.
He felt Dev flinch. The others went silent.
“You’re scaring him,” Alden said in a quieter, but just as stern voice.
Dev was trembling again. He had one hand grasping Alden’s shirt like a lifeline, broken fingers and all. Alden winced, imagining the pain it must have been causing them.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Alden said to the villain, unsure if he was even in the right state of mind to process his words. “You’re okay. You’re okay. No one’s gonna hurt you.”
Alden kept making gentle shushing noises, even as the rest of the heroes and various other employees gathered around and gave him strange looks. Dev’s breathing still came short and fast, too rapid for him to properly take in the air. He’d stopped thrashing at least, but his body trembled so fiercely that Alden had to hold him tighter to avoid dropping him.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Alden cooed.
He moved through the throng of curious onlookers and in through the main doors of Oneirogate. He was glad to be so naturally recognized as top hero that he didn’t need to show the guards his ID badge, since both of his hands were occupied and there was no way he was setting Dev down until they reached the medbay.
“That’s really…” the receptionist at the front desk began, but trailed off.
Alden didn’t bother answering her. He knew he’d have a lot to answer for later, but Dev took precedence over everything. Alden would deal with repercussions when he got to them.
His team was always telling him he had a bad habit of putting things off.
Alden stroked Dev’s shoulder with his thumb again, slow back and forth motions that he hoped were enough to center him. The hero looked over his own shoulder.
“Can somebody get Lorelei for me?” he called out, hating the way Dev flinched at his raised voice.
He’d get Dev to the medbay and…oh.
Citrine, another member of his team, stood frozen in the middle of the lobby, a stricken expression on her face. She was a deer in the headlights, staring at an oncoming car without any sense to move away from it. Alden saw her gasp, her eyes wide and horrified.
He knew she was the most terrified of Dev and what he could do. She’d always worried what he’d do if he ever managed to break inside the heroes base while he was in control of the city—the heroes last safe place.
And here Alden had the very same villain in his arms. Citrine turned and ran.
Alden squeezed his eyes shut tight—this was just another problem he’d have to deal with. Ethan came up from behind Alden and settled a hand on his shoulder. “I got it,” he said, nudging his chin in the direction Citrine had run off in. “You take the Big Bad to the medbay.”
“Small Bad at this point,” Alden mumbled, but set off.
All he’d wanted to do was save a man from endless torture, because no one deserved that kind of fate no matter who they were. The heroes could complain, could yell at him and scold him all they wanted, but he knew he made the right choice.
Dev, snuggled up in his arms, was not a god. He once claimed to be, sure, but he was just a man. One that had been so badly hurt, he was nearly unrecognizable from who he used to be.
Description: a villain who once ruled the city after taking it by force is now left to languish in a cell deep below the earth...until the day of his fateful rescue by the very same hero who defeated him.
Content: villain whump, hero caretaker, past torture, aftermath of whump, villain whumpee rescued from a facility that tortures captured villains, whumpee thinking caretaker is their new whumper, team dynamics
warnings for the series: captivity, past torture, suicidal ideation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, isolation, dissociation, flashbacks, trauma & PTSD, individual warnings listed at the beginning of each chapter
—
continuous storyline:
note: you can start at part two if you want to get straight into the whump, as part one is mostly setting the scene for background info. Not reading it won’t affect the story.
Part 1: help me
Part 2: promises you can’t keep
Part 3: rivals
Part 4: home base
—
asides:
—
picrews:
collection 1, collection 2,
—
moodboards:
Dev,
—
will update as the series progresses…if i remember to…
It’s finally here!! I’ve been so excited to post this, I wanted to wait until the end of Whumptober to do it though (originally because I had planned on doing more whumptober things but then...critical energy failure) Anyway, here ya go!! I hope you like it because I worked very hard on it.
NOTE: reading this part isn’t necessary for understanding the story but is here if you would like more background on the world and the characters. If you want to jump straight to the whump, start with part 2
The first chapter is a lot of intro stuff and not so much whump, which is why I’m releasing two parts today (the second one is where it gets into the whump more)
—
Like the moment before a storm when the air shifts and changes, the pressure builds up and up and up…the crackling energy comes out of nowhere, could startle anyone action or inaction, fighting, fleeing.
Dev couldn’t tell anymore.
That’s why he tried rehearsing these lines in his mind, tried finding the right words to describe what he was feeling. But it was never quite right no matter how much he rearranged them. He wanted to find some meaning in his current existence, in this wretched state he found himself trapped in, but nothing could compare. Not even the destructive havoc of a storm.
It wasn’t any use, anyhow. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that he would never get the chance to speak these words aloud to someone. Anyone who would listen. He wanted to express in some small way what this isolation and torment felt like, what it had done to him—but he knew. He knew that he was never getting out of here, and anyone who came into this place was quite aware of his torment, having caused it.
He tried not to think about that.
He shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind, to the deepest reaches buried underneath ages of memories he also tried not to think about. He had to hold out hope. He had to believe that he would get out of here one day and wouldn’t spend the rest of his miserable life being tortured in an eight by eight concrete cell, locked up deep beneath the earth where no one could hear him scream.
No, this was not like a storm. This feeling was something else entirely. It was just…emptiness and silence.
—
The cameras flashed in Alden’s eyes, stunning him for a split second before he readjusted to the sight of them. Crewmen scattered. Makeup artists dashed from his sides, the feel of their brushes still lingering on the softly powdered skin of his cheeks. Clean-up crews—ones Oneirogate had not hired for the event—finished hastily in their tidying up of the place and scattered like surprised ants.
Alden moved his gaze away from the clamor surrounding him and back to the camera lens shoved in his face. He tugged at his collar, wishing this would end soon so he could remove this blasted tie.
“And we’re live in 5…4…3…2…”
The crewman didn’t say the final number and Alden was only met with a new glaring light, the red of a recording. Except they weren’t recording, and the whole city was likely watching him right now.
He hated newscastings.
“Hello Lahiri city, it’s me, Mirrorman!” He said with more enthusiasm than he felt, plastering a bright smile on his face.
The woman next to him, who was way more suited to this kind of showmanship as she’d made a career of it, waved to the unseen audience.
“Yes, it’s true, I’ve got Lahiri’s very own Mirrorman here with me today to show you an inside look at a never-before-seen locale—the site of The Villain Reformation Program!”
The woman clapped her hands together in excitement and the camera moved to show the living room they stood in. Alden hadn’t had much time after arriving to actually look at the place between getting the crews set up and getting him into his costume. They’d had to do his makeup, hair, and all that went with going on live television as the city’s top hero, because one always had to look presentable.
He was able to make out a few things around him, though. The lounge where they were starting the broadcast was a common space on the first floor where captured low-level villains could still roam about in relative freedom outside of their dorm rooms. It was a nice place, Alden thought, though he wasn’t sure if it was all just for show on the day he was here or if the place was always like this.
There wasn’t a villain in sight.
They’d all been sent back to their dorms for security precautions, he’d been told. Alden could deal with some low-time crooks, but he knew they were still a liability with all this staff around. He wanted to think that the facility was just looking out for the safety of the camera crew and other civilians, but he figured it was more likely they just wanted to avoid a lawsuit and some bad publicity. This whole thing was a publicity stunt in and of itself.
The newscaster’s voice drifted into telling familiar memories, bringing Alden’s attention back to the broadcast.
“Now, over six months after Mirrorman’s glorious liberation of our fair city,” the woman gestured to Alden. “He’s here with me to show you a secret. Have you ever wondered where villains go when they’re caught?”
A pause. The newscaster’s smile faltered.
Oh, that question was for me.
Alden coughed awkwardly and shook his head. “I try to always look toward the future and focus on the villains still out there,” he answered, hoping it sounded professional enough. He never knew what to say at these things. He was better at staying out of the spotlight—that came naturally to him as a man who could turn invisible. “My job is never done.”
The newscaster made a sort of cooing noise in her saccharine voice, then held out a hand to him. “Well, there you have it! Now, would you join me for a tour?”
Alden nodded, not that he actually had a choice. He wished Oneirogate had chosen a different member of the team for this. His partner—Oneirogate didn’t use the word sidekick—had a knack for charisma and getting people to pay attention to him, but the problem was that he certainly didn’t have a knack for professionalism.
He followed the news crew all over the living room, the gated outdoor courtyard, and even through the empty halls of the upstairs dormitories where the villains lived. The newscaster spoke leagues about the kindness and mercy that Oneirogate was offering these poor, hapless villains, yet Alden had no idea what she was even talking about.
Oneirogate didn’t run this place or have much to do with it at all. They just sent some funding every once in a while and some villains a whole lot more often. Alden himself had even less idea what went on here—once he caught a villain, they were sent here and he never saw them again. Of course he did wonder what happened to some of them…
“I am a god!”
“You are a monster.”
Alden shook his head. It was fine—but was it? This was such a nice place, and for what? Villains who’d caused so much harm?
Sure, only the low-level crooks who never really hurt people were allowed into the lounge, but those that did? Those that killed, abused, manipulated, controlled—why did they get to live in such a nice place after what they’d done? It wasn’t fair—
Alden stopped himself from going down that train of thought. He always tried to retain his sense of justice, and he knew that justice wasn’t the same as retribution. He didn’t want to hurt the villains more than he had to—okay, sometimes he had the desire to, but he knew it wasn’t right. But to have villains put into a cushiony place like this seemed too much. It irked him.
Then again, events like these always drained him. He hated having to interact with others for too long, to maintain this smiling mask for hours on end to satisfy people who didn’t know him at all.
After the broadcast ended, he was bone-deep tired and collapsed on a couch in the lounge, sighing. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking of those hallways filled with closed doors to villain rooms.
“He’s not there, is he?” Alden said to no one in particular, but of course there was someone nearby to hear.
The woman he’d seen in reception area leaned on the edge of the couch he lay on. “No, not up there. We’ve got The Puppeteer locked up in our deepest sublevel under maximum security.”
Her voice dipped when she muttered the villain’s name, as if it were enough to summon him. She knew exactly who he was referring to without him even having to say it. Everyone knew about his infamous battle with the worst villain the city had ever seen. His name was something people were used to whispering, saying with forced reverence and never with hatred, and always with fear. It took a while to break a habit just for a single person. For a whole city to? Alden wasn’t sure they ever would. But Lahiri moved on from its strife and renewed itself, everchanging.
Alden thinned his lips into a line. “Naturally.”
He sighed again. Even with the power-restricting cuffs, The Puppeteer would find a way to talk a guard into letting him out. He always had such a way with words.
Alden tilted his head back into the throw pillow he was resting on. “Can I see him?”
It’d been so long since he’d come face to face with the villain, ever since that fateful day when Alden recaptured the city from the treacherous grasp of The Puppeteer. He’d gotten that name for his power, his trademark—the ability to control the minds of others and manipulate them like his own personal puppets on twisted strings.
He’d used it to take the city by force, ruling it like a tyrant. Believing himself to have the power of a god. Indestructible. Undefeated.
Until he wasn’t.
The receptionist woman toed the ground, nervously grasping the sleeve of her shirt. “Well, uh, you see—” she stumbled over her words, hesitating. It wasn’t unfamiliar to Alden as top hero—people seemed to be intimidated by him for no reason at all—but usually when they were about to deny him something.
“Since its maximum security, it requires a lot of clearance,” the woman finished.
Alden shrugged. The broadcast was finished and he had the rest of the day off—the staff knew how much he hated publicity and he assumed the break was given as incentive.
“Don’t worry about it, I got time,” he answered.
—
It took a while, but being the city’s top hero got him access to a lot of things most would never even dream of. Alden was able to get a clearance card that let him unlock the sublevel buttons on the elevator all the way down to the bottom. His eyes trailed the lit up rows of them until he found the one he was looking for. He pressed it and waited, anticipation clawing its way up his throat.
What was he even doing?
Going to see Dev again was madness. Unnecessary. Unsafe? Alden shook his head. Dev wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone here, not locked up as he was, not with those power-restraining cuffs. They’d never take the cuffs off him, so he wouldn’t be able to use his power on anyone to stage an ambush. Still, he didn’t doubt the man to try. Someone who once wielded the power of a god was not brought down easily—Alden knew that for a fact. He was the one who’d done it.
The elevator dinged and let him off.
Alden was met with a drastically different appearance to the pleasant hotel atmosphere of the above-ground levels. Those were designed for show, and these, well, were clearly just functional. The supervisors of the facility explained to him the difference was due to the sub-levels not being for public viewing, just as he made Alden sign a form to say he wouldn’t share footage or photography of them. Something about how the sight of the more…destructive villains may cause distress to the civilians. Alden had to restrain a scoff at that. Of course, they were only looking out for the health and safety of the public, not to maintain their shiny image. There were no ulterior motives behind the secrecy at all.
Alden looked around. Guards stood at regularly spaced posts in between metal doors and against concrete walls. There weren’t many cells down here, and none of them had nameplates but one.
Devlin O’Hara. The Puppeteer.
Alden gulped. Flashed his card to show the guard. Stood and waited as the door was unlocked.
Everything was too loud down here. The key in the lock grated his ears and somewhere he could hear the creaking of pipes. This was not a good idea.
The door opened and Alden stepped inside. First thing he expected was Dev to jump out and attack him, or to be sitting at a chair sneering at him and ready for a battle of wills he knew he would win.
Alden did not expect Dev to be lying on the floor on his side, broken, bloody, and bruised. The hero gasped. The villain watched him with watery eyes.
warnings: panic attack, angry mob, past torture, mentioned broken fingers, past captivity, mentioned restraints
—
Alden held onto Dev for what seemed like hours. When he first prepared to pick up the injured villain, he’d expected the weight of a full grown man, not the light weight of a few sticks and twigs that he’d become. It was a stark contrast to how he used to be. Dev had always been the stronger of the two of them.
He used to be different in a lot of ways, Alden thought.
Eventually, Dev calmed down and his breath evened out into the soft rhythm of sleep. Alden continued stroking his shoulder now more out of a habit, not wanting to break the quiet moment. But he knew he had to leave this building behind.
He never wanted Dev to have to see this place again.
Coming to the doors, it was silent outside. No clamor of publicity or shouts for orders. That would’ve come earlier. They’d issued orders on what to do for the release of The Puppeteer and stuck to it—no one could afford to mess around. Although, to the public, it wasn’t a release but a resignation.
Not fit for rehabilitation. It was something palatable to those who hated Dev, which included just about everyone in the city. Dev had ruled with an iron fist, and the city still held its collective grudge. They’d agreed on the sentiment that he didn’t deserve redemption—as if it was something one could deserve rather than a basic right inherent to their humanity.
Dev had already been stripped of so many human rights and Alden hated to take away any more, but this was how they’d get the publicity out of their faces. The heroes were another matter. Alden knew they wouldn’t want Dev invading their base, but really, what was he going to do in this state? There wasn’t anywhere else to go…Alden would deal with the repercussions when he got to them.
Someone opened the door for him as he stepped outside with the city’s most feared villain curled up in his arms.
A van waited a few feet away, parked on the curb. In front of it stood Alden’s “partner in crime” as he liked to call it, since Ethan was always a fan of irony. Non-powered employees of Oneirogate stood at either side of the pathway, guns raised, pointed, and ready to shoot in case Dev had any willpower to try anything at all.
The precautions they took for someone so small and weak were almost laughable.
Ethan held his hands up, power activated. His ability of casting energy nets helped capture difficult villains, but Alden knew Dev wasn’t going to try and escape. As soon as Ethan laid eyes on the sleeping figure in Alden’s arms, his hands faltered, the energy on them flickering and growing dim.
Dev nuzzled his head into the crook of Alden’s neck, hiding his face under the mess of his own matted hair. The shirt Alden had helped him into was already stained red with blood and one sleeve hung limply next to the villain’s broken arm.
Ethan slowly lowered his hands. His mouth fell open, likely without him realizing it, the expression of shock and disbelief practically comical in its exaggeration.
“Is that…” he started, trailing off. He pointed at Dev.
Alden nodded. Ethan rubbed the back of his neck.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
Alden carried him over to the van and Ethan opened the door for him to get on. Inside, he spotted the restraining board—a platform with connected leather straps for the wrists, ankles, and waist to secure particularly dangerous villains. Alden eyed it dismally.
Ethan stepped into the van and sat down. He saw Alden’s gaze directed toward the restraining board and raised a brow.
“You gonna put him on that thing?” he asked.
Alden shook his head and sat down across from Ethan, adjusting his arms so he could wrap both around Dev’s body to hold him up.
“I’ll just hold him,” he replied.
Ethan looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. His eyebrows furrowed together as he inspected the villain’s battered body, likely coming to the same conclusions Alden had. They couldn’t have left him in that place a day longer. Too much had already gone on without them knowing and it left the biggest villain of the city in such a state as this.
Dev whimpered and Alden thought the movement of the van starting had woken him, but his breathing evened out a moment later. His face still held that pained appearance. Alden held him close, looking down at the sleeping form in his arms.
“They really did a number on him, huh?” Ethan said.
Alden didn’t bother responding and merely sighed.
—
The heroes base came into view, along with the mass of people Alden had just pissed off. The public thought they were going to deal with The Puppeteer in a way that didn’t include rehabilitation, but the heroes knew a different story. They knew the cells at the base weren’t equipped for maximum security, so what Alden was doing was technically a huge risk to everyone involved. A mistake.
That is, if Dev was how he used to be.
The people Alden worked with glared angrily at the approaching van and he knew they were expecting the city’s most feared villain. The one who could mind control an entire crowd and bend them to his will. The man with the silver tongue who could spin pretty lies and speeches about his greatness while he made you cut off your own tongue simply because he asked.
They didn’t know they’d be getting such a broken thing. That Dev had been beaten and bloodied time and time again until he was near unrecognizable. His body was emaciated, his bones broken, his feet burned. His skin was a patchwork of bruises and lacerations, it was a wonder he hadn’t already died of blood loss. He wouldn’t even be able to walk, let alone break out of the heroes base.
But they didn’t know that.
The voices grew in volume the second Alden opened the door, even before he stepped out. Ethan held it open for him as he carried Dev out, and instantly yelling surrounded his face.
They crowded around him, faces too close. Hands reaching for him, mouths pulled in sneers and snarls. Alden’s heart raced, hating the attention. He wanted to step back and hide in the van but he knew he had to pass through this to help Dev.
“What were you thinking?” someone shouted at him.
“He’s dangerous!”
“He’s a monster!”
“He’s evil!”
The voices surrounded him. Dev cried out, awoken from the noise. He made a strangled sound and buried his face even more into Alden’s shoulder, shifting around in his grasp as if he were trying to make his body even smaller than it already was.
Alden cringed. If the clamor was enough to frighten Alden, he couldn’t imagine what Dev must’ve been feeling. He could guess enough, having the villain pressed against his chest, shivering with the force of a leaf in the wind. His breathing quickened, coming in short, pitchy gasps, and his hands tightened on Alden’s shirt as he pressed his face into it. Small whimpers escaped his lips, louder than all the voices encompassing them. Alden had to stop them before Dev hyperventilated himself into passing out.
“Everybody shut up!” he yelled.
He felt Dev flinch. The others went silent.
“You’re scaring him,” Alden said in a quieter, but just as stern voice.
Dev was trembling again. He had one hand grasping Alden’s shirt like a lifeline, broken fingers and all. Alden winced, imagining the pain it must have been causing them.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Alden said to the villain, unsure if he was even in the right state of mind to process his words. “You’re okay. You’re okay. No one’s gonna hurt you.”
Alden kept making gentle shushing noises, even as the rest of the heroes and various other employees gathered around and gave him strange looks. Dev’s breathing still came short and fast, too rapid for him to properly take in the air. He’d stopped thrashing at least, but his body trembled so fiercely that Alden had to hold him tighter to avoid dropping him.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Alden cooed.
He moved through the throng of curious onlookers and in through the main doors of Oneirogate. He was glad to be so naturally recognized as top hero that he didn’t need to show the guards his ID badge, since both of his hands were occupied and there was no way he was setting Dev down until they reached the medbay.
“That’s really…” the receptionist at the front desk began, but trailed off.
Alden didn’t bother answering her. He knew he’d have a lot to answer for later, but Dev took precedence over everything. Alden would deal with repercussions when he got to them.
His team was always telling him he had a bad habit of putting things off.
Alden stroked Dev’s shoulder with his thumb again, slow back and forth motions that he hoped were enough to center him. The hero looked over his own shoulder.
“Can somebody get Lorelei for me?” he called out, hating the way Dev flinched at his raised voice.
He’d get Dev to the medbay and…oh.
Citrine, another member of his team, stood frozen in the middle of the lobby, a stricken expression on her face. She was a deer in the headlights, staring at an oncoming car without any sense to move away from it. Alden saw her gasp, her eyes wide and horrified.
He knew she was the most terrified of Dev and what he could do. She’d always worried what he’d do if he ever managed to break inside the heroes base while he was in control of the city—the heroes last safe place.
And here Alden had the very same villain in his arms. Citrine turned and ran.
Alden squeezed his eyes shut tight—this was just another problem he’d have to deal with. Ethan came up from behind Alden and settled a hand on his shoulder. “I got it,” he said, nudging his chin in the direction Citrine had run off in. “You take the Big Bad to the medbay.”
“Small Bad at this point,” Alden mumbled, but set off.
All he’d wanted to do was save a man from endless torture, because no one deserved that kind of fate no matter who they were. The heroes could complain, could yell at him and scold him all they wanted, but he knew he made the right choice.
Dev, snuggled up in his arms, was not a god. He once claimed to be, sure, but he was just a man. One that had been so badly hurt, he was nearly unrecognizable from who he used to be.
But Alden was here to help.
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next
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hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i don’t like that ending line but I couldn’t think of anything better....anyway here ya go
here’s the caretaker for Dev! He’s the leader of the hero association’s top team, but also hates being the center of attention 😅 he has invisibility powers to match
he looks like a girl but i just like long white hair anime boys ahahaha
